


Mutual

by edibleflowers



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode: s02e04 Meat, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack needs a reminder that Ianto's alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> Set just after "Meat"; spoilers for that, obviously. Thanks to lemniskate and marita_c for beta work and title help.
> 
> Originally posted on June 16, 2009, on my Livejournal.

Ianto gives it a good twenty minutes before he goes into Jack's office. The fresh mug of coffee is an excuse more than anything, but it gives him a pattern of behaviour to use, to hide behind. But if Jack's still upset, he doesn't show it; he's switched off the monitor again and appears to be deeply engrossed in a report Tosh prepared for him last week.

Ianto sits the coffee mug in its usual place on Jack's desk. Jack glances up; slowly, he smiles and reaches for it. "All for me?" he asks, his sweeping gaze taking Ianto in from head to toe.

Shrugging, Ianto leans on Jack's desk. He's left his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, waistcoat undone; after the adrenaline surge of the fight in the warehouse, he felt constrained by the jacket. "Could be, if you play your cards right," he says.

Jack swallows a mouthful of coffee. His eyes sparkle at Ianto over the rim of the mug; then they go serious, and he sets the mug down, reaching over to cover Ianto's knee with his hand. Through the fine fabric of the trousers, Jack's hand sears Ianto's skin.

"It was a little too close in there," he says. Ianto feels the slightest hint of a tremor, betraying Jack's composure, when he speaks. Whether it's from Gwen's confrontation or the fact that Owen had to euthanise the creature, Ianto isn't sure; it doesn't really matter, anyway. He covers Jack's hand on his knee, curls his fingers around it.

"If you want me to Retcon Rhys anyway--"

"No." Jack's voice is hard, and his grip tightens enough to make Ianto wince. After a moment, he eases up, glancing up at Ianto apologetically. "No, we'll deal with him knowing. It's probably for the best. If she's going to stay with him, she can't keep lying to him about what we do."

Ianto nods. He doesn't really agree with letting Rhys keep his memory of the whole event, but he won't argue the point with Jack right now; there'll be better times to talk about it. Besides, he's still smarting from the way Gwen so casually dismissed the rest of them, as if she's the only one who could have a relationship worth mentioning. He takes a breath, though, and gives Jack one of his brief smiles. "All right, then. Anything else you need?"

Jack's hand still clutches his; the sheaf of papers has fallen from his hand to the desk. When Jack looks up at him, his eyes dark and wanting, Ianto doesn't even think about it; he just leans forward and kisses him, cupping Jack's face in his hands. Jack's mouth is electric, hungry, tongue surging searching and demanding over Ianto's. Ianto's vaguely reminded of the fact that Tosh and Owen are still just outside the office -- less than ten feet away -- when he hears a gasp and some muttered words from that direction; then Jack's hand covers Ianto's thigh, high up enough that his thumb brushes over the swell of cock beneath the line of his zipper, and Ianto forgets everything that isn't Jack.

When he breaks away, panting, he can hear alarms going off. It takes a moment to connect that they're not from that desperate kiss but from the cogwheel door. "Jack," he starts. Jack shakes his head, fingers deftly undoing Ianto's belt.

"Shut up," Jack says. One hand opens Ianto's pants; the other pulls him closer, and Ianto goes willingly, until he's positioned before Jack: still leaning against the desk, but with Jack seated in the chair before him now, eyes as black as the waistcoat he's wearing. Jack undoes a couple of buttons on Ianto's shirt, then grabs for Ianto's hand when he goes for his tie. "Leave it," he murmurs in a voice gone low and rough with hunger. Swallowing hard, Ianto nods.

It only takes the slightest movement for Jack to free Ianto's cock from his pants, and the moment he's done so, Jack leans forward, rolling the chair in close so that he can bend forward and take Ianto into his mouth. No warning, no preamble, just sudden shocking heat covering him and Ianto can't restrain the cry of sheer pleasure that escapes him, echoes in the enclosed space of Jack's office. He grips the edge of the desk with one hand, letting the other rest at Jack's nape, fingers in the soft short hair there, muttering Jack's name.

They've done this before, but rarely so impulsively, so suddenly. Jack generally waits until everyone's gone; if he's particularly impatient, he'll dismiss them all, but for all Ianto knows this time, Tosh and Owen could still be outside the office, _watching_ \-- The idea jars Ianto with arousal so strong it makes him shake, and Jack moans, gulping at Ianto's cock. Ianto looks down, stunned for a moment by the lewd sight of his striped tie leading to Jack's mouth closing on his erection again and again. Jack pulls back briefly to suck just on the head, fingers curled tight at the base; Ianto keens and lifts a foot up, pushing back just a little so he's fully sat on the desk, shuddering with every surge of pleasure.

He wants it to last; he wants to hold out. Jack's cocksucking skills are nothing short of legendary and any time Ianto gets a personal demonstration, he revels in it. But just like every other time, Jack's too much for him. Jack's mouth slides on him again, this time so deep that Ianto thinks he's in Jack's throat and that's it: the orgasm hits him in hard waves and he loses himself in it, head thrown back as it takes him.

When he comes back from the blinding whiteness, he finds that Jack's tugged his trousers and pants the rest of the way down, and he kicks his shoes off so he can kick the lot off at once. His thighs are trembling and he lets Jack coax him down into the chair, even though it's not really built for double occupancy. Jack's arms come around him and Ianto lets Jack gather him in, sinking against the solidity of Jack's body.

"You could have been killed today," he hears Jack murmur against his chest. "I could have lost you."

Ianto remembers the gun pressed to his chest, the ice-cold fear and then the warm wash of gratitude he felt when the hammer clicked impotent on an empty chamber. "You didn't," he says. "You've still got me." When Jack lifts his face, Ianto's both surprised and somehow not to see the wetness in Jack's eyes. He arches his head to press a kiss to Jack's mouth. "Let's go downstairs so you can fuck me senseless, hm?" he murmurs. Jack smiles at him, tightens his arms around Ianto, and Ianto feels that rush of gratitude again.


End file.
